


I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)

by newbie93



Series: FitzSimmons Week 2015 [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fitzsimmons Week, The FitzSimmons Network
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbie93/pseuds/newbie93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Skye decides that it's high time for a night off, Jemma Simmons finds herself stuck in a bar on the absolute WORST night to be stuck in a bar: karaoke night. Though... the handsome Scot that gets dragged onstage makes Jemma think that perhaps karaoke isn't all that bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FitzSimmons Week.  
> Day #4 Prompt: Satisfaction

“This is a truly  _terrible_ idea. Quite possibly your worst yet… which is saying something considering the fiasco with the tarantula.”

Jemma, though _behind_ Skye, knows for certain that her best friend is rolling her eyes. She can barely hear anything over the din of the crowd but Skye being Skye is loud enough to make certain her voice is heard. 

“Okay, first of all, how was I supposed to know that thing was _pregnant_ and we’d have to deal with surprise hatchings for the next week? _Second_ of all this is a _great_ idea.” 

She turns around just long enough to shoot Jemma a grin over her shoulder before facing forward again. They push through the throng of people in the room, Skye tugging at Jemma’s hand and leading her towards the bar. By some miracle they get there just as a couple departs to no doubt consummate their relationship, and manage to snag their recently-vacated bar stools before anyone else. 

Jemma gracefully slides onto her stool while Skye all but collapses onto hers, shouting, “Two Long Island Iced Teas please!” and somehow managing to successfully catch the attention of the tall man behind the bar. 

Skye gives the bartender a flirty grin when they make eye contact and Jemma wonders for the millionth time how her friend is so consistently confident. Said confidence is working like a charm as usual because the bartender ignores the two men vying for his attention at the other end of the bar and moves towards Skye with an easy grin that actually seems genuine. 

“Two Long Islands coming right up.” 

His hands begin to move deftly, picking up bottle after bottle and twirling them around as he mixes their drinks, and Jemma has to use all her willpower not to roll her eyes at the enamored look that’s now adorning Skye’s face. 

“Thank you kindly…” 

She actually _does_ roll her eyes at Skye’s newfound southern charm and kicks her friend lightly under the bar in an attempt to get her to dial down on the theatrics. Of course, when the bartender stops moving long enough to give Skye a wide grin that spans nearly his entire face, Jemma is reminded _once again_ that most people actually find Skye to be quite charming. 

“Trip.” 

Skye’s grin widens and Jemma can almost _see_ the way her friend is testing the name in her head. “Thank you kindly _Trip._ ” 

He gives her another beaming smile before continuing to fix their drinks, placing one in front of each of them less than a minute later. “Alright, two L double I T’s. Can I get you anything else?” 

Trip’s eyes move between them, landing on Jemma as she shakes her head no before shifting back to Skye when he sees the other girl opening her mouth.

“A round of shots.” She turns to Jemma with a contemplative look, completely disregarding the irritated expression on her face, before saying, “Actually… make it _two_ rounds.” 

Jemma scowls at her friend but Trip lets out a snort of laughter and raises an eyebrow. “Girl, you planning on getting drunk tonight?” 

Skye drops the innocent expression she’d been maintaining for Jemma’s sake, replacing it with a mischievous grin as she turns back to face Trip. “More like planning on getting _her_ drunk tonight.” She cants her head in Jemma’s direction with a, “There’s no way I’ll be able to convince her to do karaoke without a little liquid courage.” 

Trip laughs at this, peering at Jemma speculatively before saying, “Is that so…” 

Skye nods and both women place a temporary pause the conversation to slam back the small glasses of tequila that Trip had placed in front of them. Jemma grimaces at the taste, quickly sucking on the provided lime before primly wiping her mouth with a napkin and turning towards her friend. 

"You could get _six_ shots in me and it’s _still_ not going to happen Skye." 

Jemma gives her friend a serious look while bending forward to take a sip of her Long Island, relishing in the way the sweetness seems to dilute the burn of the tequila. Skye of course gives her customary pout, widening her eyes pleadingly before rolling them at Jemma's unwavering expression. She throws her hands up in what Jemma wishes was defeat but knows is really just exasperation. 

"Oh c'mon Jem! Let your hair down, have some mindless fun with a room full of strangers!" 

Jemma’s mouth drops open at this and she turns to her friend with an appalled expression. "The _last_ time you said that I woke up in another state!" 

Trip raises a brow at this and Skye promptly thwacks Jemma on the shoulder while rolling her eyes in irritation. "Okay you've  _really_  got to stop phrasing it like that. We were catching that flight anyways! You should be  _thanking_  me for helping you black out the memory of that plane ride. I  _still_  have nightmares about the little brat that was seated behind us." 

Jemma can't help but grin at this, which is a grievous mistake because the minuscule upturn of her lips has Skye clapping her hands and calling for yet _another_ round of shots. 

They chat with Trip as he flits around behind the bar, effortlessly mixing drinks and distributing them to the patrons that _aren’t_ the two of them, and Jemma finds herself thoroughly enjoying herself. 

Skye _had_ been right about her not taking much time to relax lately and, though she’d never actually admit it to her friend, Jemma finds herself grateful to have been literally and physically dragged to the bar tonight. She’s listening to Skye regale Trip with one of the more entertaining viruses she’d stumbled upon while trying to fix a laptop when Jemma notices that, for the first time since their initial exchange, Trip’s eyes are no longer focused on her friend. 

"Oh no... poor Fitz." 

He grimaces slightly as he seems to unconsciously say it and Jemma runs the words over in her mind to try and figure out just what has put the look of pity on Trip’s face. Skye seems just as confused by the shift in mood and tilts her head to the side as she says, "Did you just say more tits?" 

Skye is giving Trip a scandalized look, glancing between him and her chest, and the bartender's eyes widen as he begins to vehemently shake his head in the negative. "What? No! I'd never... I'm not that kind of guy." 

"Oh so you're an ass man then." 

Trip's eyes widen even more at Skye's immediate response and Jemma knows that if he were as pale as her, his face would likely match the color of Skye's slightly revealing crimson top. She feels rather bad for him, all too aware that Skye is intentionally having fun making him squirm, and quickly tries to make him realize as such. 

"She's just messing with you Trip." 

She elbows Skye who quickly drops the perturbed expression in favor of a mischievous smirk that has Trip relaxing immediately. He places a hand over his chest and leans against the bar, playfully glowering at Skye and saying, "A. You almost gave me a heart attack. B. Hasn't anyone ever warned you about messing with the people responsible for serving your food and drinks? I might have to spit in shot #4 after that cruel stunt of yours." 

Skye laughs at his threat before leaning forward, turning her _slightly_ revealing shirt into a _very_ revealing one, and snatching a cherry from the other side of the bar as she says, "Oh Trip, there are  _much_  more fun ways to swap spit." 

Jemma's pretty sure that Skye's blatant flirting actually _does_ give Trip a heart attack this time around and stifles her laughter at the incredulous look on the bartender's face. 

Her friend of course takes his stunned silence as an opportunity to sip coyly at her drink, relishing in her small victory before saying, "In all seriousness, what'd you say before about whore bits?" 

Jemma chokes a bit on her own beverage at this and Skye cackles in the background as Trip lets his forehead thud against the bar top with a groan. When he raises it a few moments later, he shakes his head at Skye with a grin and says, "Girl, you're going to be trouble. I  _said_  POOR FITZ." 

He nods his head at something behind them and when Jemma turns around she can  _just_  make out a man being forcibly dragged onto the karaoke stage by an enormous giant whose biceps appear to be bigger than Jemma's head and a shorter, but far more aggressive, man that seems to be laughing hysterically. 

Once he's standing in the center of stage and clutching a microphone as though dropping it will cause immediate death, Jemma gets a good look at Man #1 and feels an odd fluttering in her chest. He's not exactly her usual type, standing below 6 feet and far less muscular than her previous boyfriends, but Jemma marvels at the way his azure eyes shine beneath the spotlight. 

She finds herself moving her eyes to give him a full onceover and startles at the fact that he’s the first person that’s caused her to transform into a leery creep in quite some time. She finds that, despite the fact that he’s almost the antithesis of her usual type, this man is far more fun to look at and is physically quite the decent specimen. 

He is a _bit_ on the pale side, but Jemma will attribute that to the fact that he looks as though he's on the verge of being sick. 

"I assume Fitz is the one who looks as though he'd rather be  _literally_  anywhere else right now." Skye's droll comment is spoken in time with her own, "Is he the cute one on stage?" and Jemma silently prays that her words will go unheard by her friend. 

Of course they  _do not_  and Jemma cringes as Skye slowly turns to face her with wide eyes and an enormous grin. 

"The  _cute_  one?" 

Jemma stares doe-eyed between the twin gleeful expressions on Trip and Skye's faces before doing her very best to maintain a neutral indifference as she stammers out a response. "I just meant... Well he's well-formed and symmetrical but that's _such_ a mouthful so I just... cute seemed the easier thing to say. I'm not  _attracted_  to him obviously but... I mean _objectively_ speaking he  _is_  attractive." 

"Mmmhmm. Objectively speaking. Of course."

Skye’s smile is far too knowing for Jemma’s liking and she finds herself shifting atop the bar stool in an attempt to avoid her friend’s gaze. Luckily, Trip decides to speak up, meaning that Jemma has a legitimate excuse to keep her eyes from straying to either Skye _or_ the Fitz character on stage. 

"Damn straight my man's attractive! And a genius too. Dude's an engineering wiz over at Stark Industries." 

Jemma straightens at this, feeling a surge of excitement at the fact that someone that, again, is _objectively_ attractive, might also have a brain. She finds herself blushing slightly at her sudden transformation into a teenage girl with a _slight_ crush and shifts slightly on her stool, crossing her fingers and hoping that Skye doesn’t notice the redness of her cheeks. 

Of course, when she turns her head slightly, Skye is leaning with her _own_ head propped up in her hand as she stares at her with a knowing grin. "Oh  _really_? Jemma here is a bit of a genius itself. How many PhD's do you have again Jem?" 

She ducks her head down and traces the condensation on her glass as she mindlessly answers with, "Two." 

"Right, two. And how old were you when you got your second?" 

Jemma sighs at Skye’s question, knowing that her friend’s desire to brag on her behalf will likely end with Jemma being more mortified than anything else. "Seventeen." 

Surprisingly, neither of the typical reactions of, “Wow that’s so young,” and, “How smart _are_ you,” are what leave Trip’s mouth. Instead, he looks excitedly between Skye and Jemma and says, "For real? Fitz too!" 

This gets Jemma’s attention again and she straightens up in her seat as she stares at Trip with interest. She very rarely comes across anyone with even a modicum of her intelligence and she feels a rush of excitement at the fact that the man she'd admittedly been ogling (a  _bit_ ) finished schooling as early as she had. The idea that someone has likely experienced much of the same things she has causes Jemma’s heart to hammer in her chest and she eagerly leans forward, eyes lighting up in excitement as she prepares to grill Trip about her recently discovered fellow child prodigy. 

"Really?! What was his discipl..." 

The rest of her sentence is cut off by the loud squeak of a microphone and Jemma's attention is immediately drawn back to the man on stage. He still looks as though he might throw up, or at the very least pass out, and Jemma feels a bit bad for him as he nervously glances around the room. 

“C’mon Fitzy!” 

Someone in the crowd shouts boisterously and Jemma has the sneaking suspicion that it was the man she’d seen earlier with the _normal_ sized arms. Jemma notes the way that _Fitz_ winces at the sound of the other man’s shout and unconsciously leans forward in her seat when he raises the microphone to his mouth. 

“I… umm… I lost a bet…” 

Jemma’s ears perk up at the sound of the Scottish accent that streams out of the speakers and has to consciously force herself to look disinterested when she spots Skye giving her that same knowing look in her peripheral vision. She swears she hears Trip say, “Oh yeah… he’s also a fellow Brit,” but isn’t positive since she’s too focused on listening to the man on stage. 

“…and I _really_ don’t want to do this. Because I can’t sing for shite so… I umm… Sorry in advance.” 

He nods at someone off stage and takes a shaky breath just as the first few notes of a familiar song trickle out over the loudspeakers. 

“ _I can’t get no… satisfaction._ ” 

Jemma has to stop herself from groaning because _of course_ this is the song he would sing. 

This is the song he would sing after she’s _just_ admitted to Skye and _his friend_ that she finds him to be rather aesthetically pleasing. She can see Skye holding back laughter out of the corner of her eye and she slinks down in her stool, unwilling to make eye contact with her friend partly because she doesn’t feel like seeing her smirk, but mostly because she literally doesn’t think she’ll be able to tear her eyes away from the man on stage. 

“ _I can’t get no… satisfaction._ ” 

He’s standing completely still, his mouth the absolute only part of him that’s moving, and Jemma thinks he looks about as uncomfortable as Skye will no doubt make her _feel_ when his song is over. 

_“Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try…”_

_Try with me._

Jemma’s eyes widen as the thought crosses her mind and she quickly turns, back facing the stage as she silently berates herself for mentally propositioning a man that she’d never actually met. 

The move lets her lose sight of Fitzbut _also_ makes her come face-to-face with a grinning Trip who’s leaning against the wall in front of her and staring at her with a look that makes Jemma briefly worry that he can read minds. She flushes at the thought, flushes some _more_ at the repeated thought of _getting satisfaction_ with Fitz, and buries her head in her arms as she tries to block out every visual that surrounds her. 

_“I can’t get no…”_

She groans at the sound of the Scottish brogue and shifts her hands to cover her ears. It doesn’t help much considering Jemma can still clearly hear the sound of Skye’s muffled laughter. 

She runs through the periodic table in her mind, making it through three times before she feels Skye elbowing her sharply in the side. The jab makes her realize that the bar is now silent, or as silent as a bar _can_ be, and that the admittedly alluring sound of Fitz’s voice can no longer be heard. 

She sighs in relief at the realization and huffs in irritation as Skye jabs her in the side again. She sits up with an indignant, “Hey,” before she notices that Skye is widening her eyes and staring at something on the other side of her. Jemma furrows her brows at her friend’s odd behavior, prompting Skye to slowly jut her chin forward in a silent demand to _turn around._  

When she does, Jemma nearly falls off her stool at the sight of Fitz sitting beside her. 

He looks absolutely miserable, cheeks red and hands fiddling atop the bar, and Jemma is a bit alarmed at the fact that first thought in her mind is that he makes misery look _really_ good.

His close proximity gives her a better view of the stubble on his face and the rather perfect angles of his cheekbones. Her eyes rove over his face and Jemma feels a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach as she takes him in. 

He glances up and she startles slightly when his eyes land on her own. His cheeks somehow grow even redder and his hand moves to rub at his neck as he says, “I did warn you that I was terrible.” 

She turns slightly to see whom he’s talking to before she catches the mirrored looks on Trip and Skye’s faces and realizes that he’s talking to _her._  

“What?” 

Jemma Simmons is very rarely confused but she finds herself floundering as she tries to figure out what Fitz is talking about. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, shooting Trip a grateful look when the other man puts an overflowing beer in front of him, before turning to look at her (more accurately look at some random point on her shoulder) and gesturing haphazardly in her direction. 

“You were covering your ears _and_ going through the elements to drown me out.” 

Her eyes widen at the words and the embarrassment in Fitz’s voice and she hastily shakes her head. “What? No! That’s… that’s not why I was doing that.” 

He gives her a skeptical look and Jemma _knows_ that she likely resembles a fish out of water. She wracks her brain to try and figure out what she can say to assure him that she finds his voice to be quite lovely without revealing _just how lovely she finds his voice_ and nearly cries in relief when Skye jumps in to help her out. 

“She really _wasn’t_ doing that because of you.” 

Fitz glances up at this, glancing between Skye and a nodding Trip who says, “Seriously Fitz.” 

Skye sighs in feigned exasperation before waving her hand dismissively and saying, “I was annoying her by dissing her precious SciTech and she was just trying to tune me out.” 

Jemma bites her lip nervously as Fitz processes Skye’s fib, hoping he’ll buy it, and startles slightly when he immediately seems to perk up. When his eyes land back on her he shrinks back down again before hesitantly saying, “You… you work for SciTech?” 

“Please, SciTech practically works for _her._ Jemma basically runs that place.” 

Skye is munching on another cherry before the last word has even left her mouth and Jemma shoots her friend a look as she hisses her name. Skye just waves dismissively _again_ and shrugs her shoulders in indifference. “What? It’s my best-friend duty to brag on your behalf when you refuse to do it yourself.” 

She’s about to launch into her standard lecture regarding there being a time and a place for bragging, but a quiet voice from her other side gets her attemtion before she can say anything.

“Jemma… Jemma Simmons?” 

Jemma’s head snaps back around at Fitz’s soft inquiry, mouth dropping open at the curious expression on his face. She feels a warmth work its way through her body at the realization that he _knows_ her and then feels her eyes widen when she comes to her _own_ realization about him. 

“Fitz… _Leopold_ Fitz?!” 

He blushes at her exclamation, nodding his head bashfully in a way that only seems to confirm Jemma’s earlier assessment of him. 

_He’s cute._

_(In an extremely lush and unfairly mouth-watering kind of way)_

Jemma shakes her head slightly at her inability to _not_ objectify the man in front of her, and instead excitedly latches onto the fact that _the man in front of her_ is Leopold Fitz. “I read your paper about the D.W.A.R.F.S. just the other day! It was absolutely brilliant!” 

His mouth drops open at her exclamation, cheeks reddening as he begins to shake his head and eagerly lean closer to her. “Wha… _no_ that wasn’t.. _._ no! _Your_ paper on dendrotoxin was brilliant! The stuff you’ve managed to do with it is… it’s groundbreaking!” 

Jemma feels her blood begin to thrum at the compliment and grins widely upon realizing that she and Fitz have gravitated closer together, knees brushing and arms a few scant millimeters apart. 

She doesn’t have to turn around to know that Skye and Trip are likely waggling their eyebrows at each other, and finds that she doesn’t much _want_ to turn around, far preferring to stay facing Fitz. She blushes at the eagerness of his expression and tucks her hair nervously behind her ear. 

“Thank you. Actually…” A thought crosses her mind and Jemma excitedly leans forward even more as she decides to _audibly proposition_ Fitz this time. 

“I was trying to figure out a way of incorporating it to some form of non-lethal weaponry… any chance you might be willing to help?” 

The question is tentative but Jemma realizes quickly that there’s no reason for her worry because Fitz’s eyes light up and he immediately gestures in Trip’s direction as he says, “Pen, pen! I need a pen!” 

Trip rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics, shooting Skye a look that she reciprocates immediately with a head jerk in Jemma’s direction, but moves down the bar to grab a pen from the can of them stationed next to the till. He doesn’t even make it a foot before Fitz snaps his fingers and tacks on, “And napkins!” 

Jemma finds herself giggling at his unbridled enthusiasm, deliberately ignoring the slew of love heart emoticons that Skye is texting her and flipping her phone over so that neither she nor Fitz will have to see her friend’s teasing. 

When Trip returns, Fitz snatches the pen and napkins from his hands and begins animatedly telling Jemma about an idea he’s had concerning a non-lethal gun and non-penetrative bullets. Jemma eagerly listens, chiming in and jotting down her own thoughts and ideas whenever they arise, and doesn’t let herself get too flustered by their close proximity. 

They stay chatting in the bar until closing time, barely stopping their chatter to wave goodbye to Skye and Trip as they leave when the latter’s shift ends, and their words flow together as though their two minds fuse into one. 

They chat even more while walking around the quiet city and they stop chatting completely when they crash together in the hallway of her apartment, lips moving in a synchrony that leaves Jemma feeling confident that both she and Fitz will end the night _plenty_ satisfied indeed.


End file.
